Return of the Dead

"Don't you want one more day with a chance?" — Michonne, "The Walking Dead"

When "The Walking Dead" went to hiatus in early December, it was on a rough note. Beth, who had just been re-united with her group, was killed. The final scenes were ones of sorrow. They'd lost the dream of Washington, D.C. and they'd lost another of their own.

As we pick up, now more than two months later, nothing much has changed. The group continues to struggle on, rootless and, in many ways, hopeless. Even the strongest among them craves some kind of normalcy. Michonne — who was long a lone wolf — states somberly "you can be out here too long." Meaning that a constant violent life on the road can completely break down what makes you human.

Glen, once the kind soul in the group, has become hardened. His hope is near gone, replaced by an emptiness that is deeply unsettling, even to Rick — who has endured his own dark nights of the soul. Hope is so fundamental to who we are as people, it's so fundamental to that will to live, how do you go on when it's no where to be found?

That is the fundamental question at the heart of "The Walking Dead." There is no magic cure. There is no way the world will ever be as it was. That world is gone. These four and a half seasons have pounded that point home. You can't find hope in a renewed world, because it's not possible. The CDC told them so. The lies Eugene told confirm it. You must find hope in each other, in finding a way to live in a world that's forever broken.

That was always a struggle for Tyreese. He is a beautiful, gentle soul. He was not cut out for the world in which he lived, and he knew it. That's not to say he didn't contribute. Tyreese saved Judith, he fought for those he loved. He did the best he could, but he could not shake the horrors of his new world.

In consoling Noah, though, Tyreese realized he had been given a purpose, one he'd fulfilled. In the world of "The Walking Dead," fulfilling a purpose and having a personal revelation is often a sign that your time has ended. And so, indeed, for Tyreese the end had arrived.

It was an emotional, beautifully told episode. It was an episode that asked hard questions about the cost of our actions, the role of fate, and when it's OK to let go. Tyreese — after being bitten and slowly heading to the end — was revisited by those who were gone. They asked the hard questions, forcing Tyreese to make peace with himself and his own actions.

He saw Mika and Lizzie, the girls he couldn't save. He saw The Governor, the evil man he was slow to recognize. He saw Martin, the man he couldn't kill. And he saw Beth and Bob, the friends he'd lost. All of them were a part of Tyreese's struggle. Were his actions — or lack of actions — to blame for the suffering of his friends?

The larger question is what is free will, and what is pre-ordained. It's human to think we can control all the things in our lives, or that we're somehow responsible for all that fails in the world. But that's vanity. The ghost of Bob said it best when he said, "It went the way it had to." Tyreese's compassion wasn't a character flaw. His inability to save everyone from a world gone mad wasn't a sign of failure. His willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt didn't make him a fool. They were part of his core being — a core being not cut out for a world that had lost it's center.

His death was sad. It was heart-breaking. And it might have been a kindness, for Tyreese anyway. His suffering is over. His paralyzing self-doubt is at an end. He is free.

Now it's up to those who remain to find hope in a hopeless situation. As Michonne asked, "Don't you want one more day with a chance?"